The Path Of A Hero
by Lion on the Hill
Summary: Chapter two added. I hope you like it! Introducing a new character named Hoh.
1. The Abrupt Beginning

___Disclaimer: I do not own the Wheel of Time, nor any of its characters. I do own Nena and Naralin. This story is a sidestory for the real series. I hope you like it. R&R!_

Nena and Naralin both stared at the sky in wonder. Moments ago they had felt a strong breeze tug at their gowns, and Naralin could see her own surprise reflected in Nenas eyes. The wind had felt... wrong. Furthermore, three crows had flown southward, riding on the wind. They had scanned the land, without doubt spying for their master, the Lord of the Grave. Crows did not belong in the Dreaming World.

'The Shadow's breath carrying the Dark One's eyes'.

Naralin agreed on her sisters words, and her lips tightened. She became aware that her hands were grasping the hilts of her swords. With an effort she loosened her grip on them. 'I have never seen any crows in Tel'aran'rhiod. Bad things are about to happen.'

Nena nodded, averting her gaze from the sky. 'We should tell the others about this.'

She turned around and leaped on her raken, a flying creature sized somewhat larger than a horse, that had stood quietly behind them during the exchange. It gave a small tuck at the reins, but soon Nena had the beast perfectly under control. Nena had a strong personality, mostly consisting of pure determination, and the beast had been obedient since the moment they first flew together. Of course, that could also have to do with the fact that the raken was in fact not real itself, but a creature created by Tel'aran'rhiod. Naralin however thought it to be the intimidating air around Nena that also made other inhabitants of the World of Dreams tread lightly in her presence.

She was a hard one, her sister. Calmly sitting on the raken, her gown already changed into full battle-armor, she positioned her Ashandarei, a weapon consisting of a blade attached to a wooden staff, in front of her. She looked every bit like Nena, the hero out of legends. Which she was of course. Countless songs and stories had been written about her and even the oldest of them were still popular among nobles and farmers alike. Several stories had been written about Naralin herself, obviously, but most of the time she was mentioned playing a minor role in her sisters story.

Naralin fought down a wave of jealousy. _I can't let myself be jealous of Nena_, Naralin told herself. _She's my sister! Her deeds deserve to be remembered, and I should be supporting her. _With a forced smile she climbed up on the saddle behind Nena, clasping her sisters middle as the raken took off south, the same direction the crows had gone.

In silence they winged their way from the Black Hills into Andor, every flap of the wings transporting them a few miles closer to Caemlyn, the Capitol City of Andor. It would have been faster to just leap directly to Far Madding, where Arthur Hawkwing was at the moment, instead of making small jumps of two or three miles crossing the entire length of Andor. Still, Nena had a love for flying, and Naralin didn't really mind most of the time.

The raken slowed down and they suddenly soared high above the huge lake. In the middle of the lake, completely surrounded by water, lay the city of Far Madding. It was famous for it's huge ter'angreal, called 'The Guardian', that blocks anyone from touching the One Power. The effects were even in place in this world.

Nena looked over her shoulder at Naralin, smiling. 'Now comes my favorite part!' At once the raken dived straight towards the earth. Naralin moaned. 'Oh no, not again...' It scared her to her very bone when Nena did this. The only thing that held her on the raken was the resolve to be as brave as her sister, which she would be, no matter what happened.

The ground came closer at a frightening speed. Far Madding seemed to grow bigger and bigger by the second. A small dot becoming a blot, becoming an even bigger blot. Nena crouched a little lower over the beasts neck and increased the speed even further. Nena's long, dark hair streamed out behind her, enveloping Naralin's sight, so she couldn't see more than flashes of the upcoming ground.

Doom scenario's began to form in Naralins mind. Her breath came in gasps. _Light, we're going to crash!_ She let out a scream of fear and closed her eyes, wishing to be somewhere else.

Something changed. When she opened her eyes, she stood next to a barrel in a main street of Far Madding. Realization that she had panicked flooded through her, and she could feel her cheeks redden with shame. She watched as Nena pulled out of the dive spectacularly. Less than ten feet from the ground the raken leveled out, and shortly after Nena and the raken landed, close to Naralin. In short time she had leaped from the raken and stood before Naralin, ashandarei slung nonchalantly across her shoulders, a huge smile on her face.

'You squeaked like a little mouse that's been stepped upon! Squeak, squeak!' She roared with laughter. 'At least you didn't faint! I honestly expected you to! You wouldn't be the first, you know.' She chuckled and turned her back on Naralin to see to her raken.

Rage boiled in up in Naralin and she snapped out at Nena. 'You're a fool! Risking your own neck for the fun of it? And mine too! You must be mad! No brains at all! Do you treat everyone like this?'

'Pretty much.'

She looked over her shoulder at Naralin. Then she sighed.

'Look. I was just having some fun! Nothing personal.' She walked over and placed her hands on Naralins upper arms. Naralin stepped backwards, but Nena fastened her grip. 'You're my little sister. I wouldn't let anything of the sort happen to you! You know that. I would sooner eat my hat.'

At once she was wearing a fluffy yellow hat, shaped like a crooked, pointy tower, little balls of wool hanging on chords around her face. She blew against one, and it rebounded against her nose.

Naralin just couldn't help laughing. Her anger melted away, making room for giddiness and relief. The hat just looked ridiculous, not appetizing at all. Nena joined in, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

'You said someone fainted', Naralin said, still laughing. 'Who was it?'

'Arthur Hawkwing', she said with a wink. 'At first I was very impressed with him. He hadn't screamed or panicked or even made a noise. But then he fell out of the saddle right on the...'

'He isn't here.'

'What do you...' Nenas words trailed off. Her face was set in a puzzled frown. 'You're right. Arthur is gone!' She suddenly looked alert.

A black fleck drifted up in front of Naralins eyes. Two more followed, pulsing with little waves of darkness. She tensed. 'Back to back', whispered Nena, gripping her ashandarei with both hands.

Naralin reached over her shoulders and drew her swords from their scabbards. She waited, emotionless in the Void.

The three flecks multiplied fast. Soon more than a hundred flecks were flying around her, buzzing like angry mosquitoes. A few seconds later they danced along the entire street, and the blackness around them grew. The flecks danced even more vigorously then before, and still nothing had happened. Nothing at all.

_What's going on? _Nervousness brushed against the Void from the inside, but she kept it at bay. _Concentrate, you fool! _She took a quick peek at Nena, and her breath caught.

Nena hung three feet above the ground, her eyes bulging, her face red with fury. A tall dark-coated man stood beside her, his left hand around Nenas throat, keeping her suspended, his right hand outstretched towards Naralin.

'NENA!'

The cold, hard eyes of the man focused on Naralin. Black flecks danced in his eyes. _Light! Those eyes! He's insane!_ She felt a fear like she had never felt before.

He twitched his right-hand.

The next thing she knew, she was hanging in mid-air, held up by a hand squeezing her throat shut. She stared the man directly in his face. Blood pounded in her ears, so she could hear every beat of her heart. Furthermore, she couldn't move a muscle. The dark-clad man spoke.

'What do we have here?' He looked away to Naralins right and back again. 'Oh, I see. To little girls pretending glory and greatness.' He laughed madly without mirth. 'My name is Moridin. I'm Nae'blis. I'm the greatest of the Chosen.

He moved both his arms to hold Naralin and Nena in front of him, so they could look each other in the eyes.

'There's no greatness for you, or anyone else. You shall die.'

There shone almost no light in Nenas eyes. Her face had turned blue. A flicker of movement behind Nena made Naralin look away from her sister. A man, grayed with age and a crooked back, stood behind Nena, shimmering like a reflection seen through water. His arms were stretched out towards both of them. The old man made a pulling motion, and the world dissolved into a white flash.


	2. Surprises in the Night

**It's been a long time since I last posted a chapter to this story. It took me quite some time to get the storyline fixed, because I wrote the first chapter without ever considering what would happen next. But now things are back on track, and I hope you will like this chapter. Cheers!**

Confusing images popped up in Naralins head, flashing shapes of all colors. They made no sense. One moment they were there, a moment later they molded into something entirely different. Once in a while they showed a clearer image.

They now showed the face of a woman with hard, brown eyes, high cheekbones and a well-formed mouth. Long dark hair flowed around her shoulders. The woman looked a lot like Naralin herself, but slightly different. Stronger.

'Nena! Where are you? Nena!'

A loud, wailing sound filled Naralins ears. Tears filled her eyes and blurred the dark world around her. Different, older visions of her dead sister appeared: killed by a knife in her back, sprawled on the ground after a fall from a raken, _choking because of a hand around her throat..._ Naralin wailed out loud, emptying her lungs, horrified. She winced at every appearance, retreating deeper and deeper in herself.

_Nena, my sister! Don't leave me... Come back! Come back to me! You're my closest friend, and we've still got so many things to do! We've yet got so many lives before us! Nena! Nena..._

Her sister wouldn't come back. She knew that for sure. Whenever someone dies in Tel'aran'rhiod he or she dies the final death. This realization ignited her pain even more. She wanted to rip out her heart, anything to stop feeling the pain. Naralin screamed.

And suddenly she couldn't scream anymore. A strong hand enveloped her mouth, and someone hissed: 'Keep quiet, or they'll find us!' Naralin still tried to scream, but to no avail. Silently she sobbed down on the muddy wooden floor and tried to make out the figure behind her. That proved hard. Her tears and the darkness around her made everything indistinct, but after a while she recognized the stranger. It was the old man from Tel'aran'rhiod!

It took a while for Naralin to notice that the old man's loud breathing had stopped. Naralin froze. Three pairs of boots walked towards them, and she shrank further away into the shadows.

'They should be somewhere around here', one of them said, and she recognized his voice. Moridin!

He spoke again, and his words made hate boil up in Naralin. 'You, order the other Myrddraal to kill her. Luc, you have your instructions.' 'Yes, master', the man called Luc answered. A flash of white light appeared, illuminating the scene, and Naralin crawled away behind two barrels that stood in front of her, only narrowly avoiding notice. A few seconds later the light vanished, leaving everything pitch dark. She could hear the sound of fading footsteps, leaving her alone with the old man.

_Was that a gateway? _She wondered. _But, how could it be? The Guardian should prevent use of the One Power. It must have been something else._

'Naralin, listen to me.' Naralin started. The old man knew her name. 'Stay seated behind these barrels, no matter what happens. I'll be right back.' The old man's voice was filled with concern and determination, and he sounded really shocked. Why was that? He stood up, and the next moment he was gone.

She waited until she couldn't hear the old mans muffled footsteps anymore, and then she stood up in a crouch to peek through a gap between two barrels. Not a soul to be seen. What to do now? Should she wait for the old man to return? He had told her to wait...

Naralin pulled herself together. No, she wouldn't sit around doing nothing. She was a bloody hero, not a helpless child! She would avenge the death of her sister! She would kill all those Myrddraal!

Purposefully she picked up both her swords from the ground and then ran after the Myrddraal.

* * *

A steady dripping of melt-water from the ceiling on his mattress had woken Hoh up. Trying to catch some more hours of sleep before going on duty, he had moved his mattress a little more towards the wall and had tried to fall asleep yet again, but the sleep wouldn't come. It was several hours to sunrise, when he would be expected to train the new recruits in fighting with the sword. _Half those idiots don't know one end of a sword from another_, thought Hoh as he lit his pipe, and he grimaced. Yesterday had seen their third sword-training, and Hoh hadn't been pleased with their progress. One particularly clumsy recruit had banged another recruit on the head with his sword, knocking him unconscious for two hours. Hoh would have found it quite an achievement, had Dariid not accidentally hit Viyar while the latter was just walking by. Well, they would learn soon enough, Hoh would see to that. Standing up, he looked over at a dark, slightly moving lump near the door, where Sariam was sleeping. Hoh could hear him snore, and so realized the rain had stopped. Good. Maybe he would be able to fall asleep after a little walk. He inhaled a last time from his pipe and put it down on the table. Donning his cloak he stepped outside into the darkness.

A curtain of winter fog hung heavily in the air, and a sudden drop in temperature made Hoh clasp his cloak closer around his body. Immediately he started walking down the street in a fast pace to keep himself warm. A little pool of rainwater made a splashing sound when he stepped in it, and some of the water found its way into his boots. The cold and wetness made Hoh wonder why he was outside on the streets at all, walking around was clearly not making him any sleepier. Nonetheless he walked on and rounded the next corner.

The fog was even thicker here, but the street lanterns provided a little light. It reminded him of a night four years ago, riding on his first mission as a full City Guard to root out a band of brigands hiding in the Hills of Kintara. Halfway to the place where the brigands were supposed to be, riding in thick fog, his company had been ambushed and had sustained heavy casualties. Hoh shivered, and not due to the weather. Many comrades and friends had died that day, and Hoh had been forced to learn an important lesson every soldier most learn someday: how to cope with personal losses. He wasn't very good at it.

'Bloody brigands. One of these days...'

He grimaced again and felt a desire to kick something. A cat ran past less than a feet from him, but was gone in a flash. Instead he kicked a barrel at the side of the road. It made a booming sound that one could probably hear at the end of the street. Almost like an answering sound he heard the clangs of metal against metal and a woman's cry. Hoh froze. _What in the Light is going on_, he thought, wishing for his sword. He had left it last night at the City Guards' weapon-room. As much as to quench his fear as wanting to know what was happening at the end of the street, he entered the Void. He heard the fighting more clearly now. And it was coming closer fast. He hoped against hope that no-one would notice him in this fog.

Before he had any time to react, a figure shot past him and a second one slammed into him hard, making both of them fall to the ground. Sprawled on the floor he quickly made efforts to stand up, and his gaze fell on the face of the other man.

Fear. Relentless, bone-drenching fear crept into Hoh, and he couldn't hold on to the Void. He yearned to divert his eyes, but fear kept them focused on the man's eyeless face. No, not a man. A Myrddraal. A nightmare given flesh. Lightning-quick, it was already on its feet, sliding towards Hoh, the black tip of his sword angled directly for his throat. As the Myrddraal started moving its sword for the final strike, Hoh saw from the corner of his eye a dark figure coming closer. A hand's breadth from being killed the figure slashed out with a sword, severing the Myrddraal wrist from his lower arm and immediately took stance between Hoh and the wounded Myrddraal. Fending off another attack from the dark fog with a second sword, the figure shifted stance to attack again with the first sword, forcing the wounded Myrddraal to step back.

The fear that had gripped Hoh lessened when the stranger had stepped between him and the Myrddraal. It's sword, wrist still attached to it, fell to the ground and Hoh reached out for it. Fingers were still clamping the hilt, but he wrenched them loose and clasped the black sword firmly in his right hand. He rolled over and got up, sword now held in both hands. Without further thought he formed the Void, imagining a single flame in which he put all his emotion, clearing his mind of the turmoil except for a tiny space occupied by the flame. The fear vanished into the flame.

At once he was more aware of himself and his surroundings. He sidestepped an oncoming blow he sensed coming from his right and positioned his blade to block more oncoming blows, a form called The Boar Rushed Downhill. The creature he faced moved like a viper, like it had no bones at all. Much quicker than he had expected the second blow landed, the strength behind it staggering him. It appeared that the Myrddraal was not only lightning-quick, but also stronger than most man. Cursing, Hoh tried his best to keep the Myrddraal's sword from cutting his flesh. Black sword met black sword in mid-air, again and again, every contact of the black blades producing white sparks. Stones Falling From the Cliff met Ribbon in the Air. Had Hoh fought with his own sword, he might have stood a fair chance of winning, but as it was he could barely keep the Myrddraal from striking home.

He looked over at the stranger, who was fiercely dueling three Myrddraal at once. And doing very well by the looks of it. Two already lay face down on the stones, thrashing wildly, and the one without a sword backed away from the figure, closer to Hoh. A split-second decision made Hoh run away from his duel, and he stabbed in the back of the one-handed Myrddraal, who had clearly not noticed his approach. Felled by his own sword it started trashing like the other two Myrddraal.

The stranger shot past him and took up the fight with the last Myrddraal, just as he had expected. Taking a deep breath he wheeled around to engage in the fighting; and found himself face-to-face with the stranger, a swordpoint pricking in his throat.

'Show yourself! Now! Or I'll rend you open like a pig!' The stranger sounded nervous and her words made no sense at all. Her eyes weren't focused on his, but somewhere on his left cheek.

'What do you mea...' It suddenly hit him that she was saying, and the shock made him release the Void.

Immediately hard, determined eyes looked straight at his. 'Good. Now drop your sword'. With great reluctance he did as she told him.

'Who are you?' Hoh asked. She didn't answer, but only gave him a wide-eyed stare. He caught a faint murmur. 'No, it can't be...' Then the woman seemed to steady herself, and the determined look she gave him was as hard as before. 'Pick up your sword. Let's get out of here.' She silently ran the way back that she had come.

Disbelievingly Hoh watched her go. One moment the woman was threatening to kill him, the next she was ordering him to follow her. Furthermore, she calmly fought Myrddraal like she did it every day. And he still didn't know who she was! _Well, I'm certainly not going to find who she is standing here,_ he thought, and picking up his sword he ran after her.


End file.
